


Little Bad Red Riding Hood

by catness



Category: Fairy Tales and Related Fandoms, Little Red Riding Hood (Fairy Tale)
Genre: F/M, Funny, Parody, Urban Fantasy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-15
Updated: 2013-05-15
Packaged: 2017-12-11 22:53:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/804163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catness/pseuds/catness





	Little Bad Red Riding Hood

Little Red Riding Hood (more commonly known as Red or That Little Bitch) was in the middle of her aerobics practice, stretching her slim long legs in front of the big mirror in the living room. Her reflection vanished when the mirror turned opaque and rippled. When the surface calmed, the girl was looking at the image of her dead grandmother. The old witch frowned and pursed her lips, observing the clutter in the room. "Wasting time playing with yourself, as usual. Aren't you forgetting something?"

"Oh crap," exclaimed Red. "Don't tell me it's a full moon already."

"As full as it can get! What do you think, your poor grandmother should starve in her coffin because nobody wouldn't lift a finger to bring a helpless dead woman some fresh flesh?"

"Helpless dead woman my ass." Red sneered. "The cemetery is as good as haunted now. There are rumors in town. People disappear. Other people claim seeing zombies and monsters..."

"That's because you don't bring enough! Last time it was an old cripple, as bony as a skeleton, and before that, a newborn baby. Of course these little critters are delicious but a single one is no more than a snack. Doesn't your granny deserve a normal meal once in a while lest she goes insane?"

Red sighed. She knew all too well that the old hag was right - if she didn't get her nourishment, she'd lose all self-control. Mother was the only one who could reason with her, but this week she was away on a trip with an important client.

"Oh Gran, stop whining already. I'll be at your place before midnight," said Red, "and I promise to bring some nice and juicy sacrifice."

***

After dark, Red gathered her keys and her favorite chainsaw, stuffed them into her oversized purse, and headed out. She didn't have any specific plans, hoping to come across a suitable victim on her way. But she forgot about the new episode of "Moonfluff" being aired today; the town streets were deserted at this hour, and Red loathed to break into houses during TV nights. Murdering a whole family resulted in too much mess and bloodstained, irrevocably ruined outfits.

She decided to hang around the town cemetery. Together with the nearby forest, it usually provided good hunting grounds. Today it also didn't fail her expectations; she spotted a couple of grave robbers as they crept out of a dark alley and began to dig up an old grave. Red unsheathed the chainsaw and sneaked closer, hiding behind the bushes. She was so preoccupied with watching the movements of her potential victims that she failed to pay attention to what was under her feet. Her foot tripped on a chain, and metal jaws snapped shut, clasping her ankle in a death grip.

Red screamed like a banshee, crashing to the ground when the sharp pain shot all the way up to her leg. A trap! It was set specially for grave robbers, but everybody was careful to avoid it - except her. The thieves, who had already stopped digging upon hearing suspicious noises, dropped their shovels and fled in terror. "Noobs," thought Red, clenching her fists in an attempt to calm down.

She groaned, pulling and pushing the metal springs, but the trap held fast. There was no obvious way to escape apart from sawing her foot off. It would regenerate, of course, but regeneration required a few hours and was bloody painful, and she didn't have unlimited time - midnight was steadily approaching.

Something rustled in the bushes. She raised her head; the glowing yellow eyes of a big gray wolf stared back at her. He curiously tilted his head and said in a hoarse voice: "How come such a nice young lady is a grave robber?"

"The hell I am! I came to visit my dead grandmother."

"Sure, and that's why you climbed the cemetery wall instead of walking through the front gates like all the honest citizens."

"It's not your bloody business. No dirty werewolf will tell me where to walk."

"Well, right now you're certainly not walking anywhere. I know these traps - top quality." The wolf strolled closer and sniffed the air. "Mmm, blood. Tell you what. Let me bite off your foot and I'll give you a lift to your grandma."

"Bite off my foot?! Bite off your cock, motherfucker!"

The wolf sneered. "Whatever. Feel free to stick around while I tip off the police. They will be pleased to see their traps are good for something." He nodded towards the disrupted grave.

"But I had nothing to do with it."

"Then you have nothing to worry about. Innocence is the best alibi." He slowly headed back to the bushes.

Red called after him. "Wait a second! I'd really rather not mix the police into it. I'm... erm... allergic to uniforms."

"Sure. Such an allergy is very common. Especially among grave robbers." The wolf grinned a wide toothy grin, lolling out his tongue - it was long and red. "So, deal?"

"How do I know you won't cheat me?"

"Trust me."

"My mother told me to never trust werewolves."

"Smart woman, your mom. But do you have a choice?"

"Oh well. But don't you dare to try anything funny. I have a chainsaw and I know how to use it!"

"I don't doubt it." The wolf approached the girl and leaned over her, salivating. 

"The foot is over there!" squealed Red, trying to evade the foul-smelling breath and wet tongue on her neck.

"Sorry, got carried away. Don't be so impatient, baby," said the wolf. He closed his jaws around her leg and sank his teeth into the flesh. The bone snapped. 

 

Red wailed in agony and pounded her fist against the damp earth. Squinting through teary eyes, she saw the wolf devouring his prize, carefully gnawing around the bones still stuck in the trap mechanism. She wanted to cut his head off. If only she didn't need the ride to Gran!

When the bones were licked clean, the wolf sat down with a satisfied grin. "Mmm, tasty. Perhaps one more bite? Are you sure you need the other foot?"

"Need... to... gran..." muttered Red through clenched teeth, clinging to her chainsaw.

"Sure, sure. Family comes first." The wolf got up and wagged his tail. "Where did you say her grave was?"

"The second alley... to the left... from the center, the third crypt... the one with a statue, angel holding a sword."

"Ah, the kitschy lump of marble, I remember that one. A big fancy crypt with a huge padlock on the door, smelling of herbs and wet grass. Just like that key in your purse."

Red made a grab for the purse, but the wolf was faster. With the purse hanging from his teeth, he grinned again. "Ok, I won't call the police. I have more important things to do. Enjoy your rest, baby." He turned around and disappeared in the bushes.

Red kept cursing and shouting pointless insults at the air long after the wolf was gone, but nothing could amend the embarrassing fact - she had been had. Frantically rubbing the bleeding stump to speed up the regeneration process, she thought that her mother would've never made such a blunder. She had a way to see through any male, be it a human, a werewolf, a vampire or a zombie. Of course, naive and trusting women didn't survive in the companionship business for long, usually perishing in various gruesome ways. This profession was a sophisticated art bordering on science, and Red had neither talent nor inclination for it. She preferred a blunt and straightforward approach to social interaction. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn't.

***

The new foot was still thin and misshapen but it worked. Red limped across the cemetery, grabbing at tombs and fences for support. She didn't anticipate anything positive from coming to grandmother late and empty-handed, but it was better than missing the visit altogether.

The crypt greeted her with an open padlock. Loud clanking and thumping came from within the chamber. A fight? She had no desire to get caught in the middle of it, so a stealthy investigation was in order. Red climbed the nearest tree, descended to the roof of the crypt and peeked into the skylight. Gran had insisted on installing it because she enjoyed sky-gazing on dark and stormy nights, and now it turned out to be handy.

Inside of the crypt, several fierce-looking men were engaged in sword fighting. The interior of the chamber was completely trashed - gone were the carpets, the golden statuettes, the aromatic candles and all the knick-knacks collected by the old witch over years. The floor was littered with glass and porcelain shards.

Red crawled to the center of skylight to get a better view. The glass cracked under her weight and shattered. She fell through, all the way down to the floor, landing on someone's backpack.

The fight ceased. The bandits gaped in surprise at the unexpected guest scrambling onto her feet. "What are you doing here?" demanded a tall guy with a red feather sticking out of his shaggy hair, his golden eyes fixed on her crooked foot.

"What are YOU doing here, son of a bitch?" Red snapped back. She realized that she had forgotten her chainsaw at the grave, so she probably didn't have any grounds for being rude, but she wasn't used to any other ways of communication with strangers.

"Easy, baby. Watch who you're insulting." He puffed out his chest. "I'm the leader of Common Folk's Liberation Front! We fight for justice, rob the rich, give to the poor - that sort of thing."

"Dammit, Robin, we are poor ourselves!" interrupted a burly robber in a ragged green shirt. "We deserve our share before you blow it all again on some bloody charity like preservation of wildlife!"

"Shut your trap, Little John," growled Robin. "There's enough loot for everyone. The old hag here was a real packrat. But keeping the dope is out of the question. I know better what's good for you, and you're not getting any of it."

"Hey, that's my grandmother's stuff you're squabbling about!" shouted Red. "What have you done to her?"

"Your grandmother. Sure. What a sour woman she was, positively acid. My throat is still burning." Robin burped. "You, on the other hand..." He licked his lips; his tongue was long and red. "A feisty young lady, but so sweet and tender. Now it would be a good time to finish what we started."

His mouth broke into a toothy green as he took a step towards her. His eyes flashed yellow.

"You are that fucking werewolf!" screamed Red. "Stay away from me!"

"Or what? You'll bite me to death with your feeble human teeth?" He grinned and took another step. "Want to bet I'll eat you faster than you regenerate? Don't be scared. It hurts, of course, but not for long."

"I ain't scared of no one," declared Red, trying to suppress the involuntary trembling in her voice, as offense was the best way to deal with fear. "I'm Red Riding Hood, and no one lays their dirty paws on me."

The threat was unexpectedly effective. The ex-wolf froze, staring at Red with his jaw dropped. "Little Red Riding Hood! Well, I'll be damned."

Red stammered, shifting her stance. "Erm... do you know me? So you did go to the police, after all?"

"So young and already so messed up. I can understand that, seeing who your father is." He let out a short hoarse laugh. 

"What do you know about my scummy dad?" 

"Everything there's to know. The fact is, well, I am your father."

"You? The bloody... Oh." Red was at loss for words, which didn't happen often. Her first instinct was to protest such an outrageous lie, but it sounded too bad to be a lie. She just stood there and gawked at the rugged face of the man she had learned to hate even without knowing who he was and what he looked like; her mother never told her any details.

"Smart woman, your mom. Packed up and left, the moment her pregnancy started to show, not a day too late. But I'm glad she kept the name." Robin raised his hand, pointing at two of his goons. "You and you - tie her up. Be careful, she can bite."

"You can't eat me just like that!" protested Red, struggling with the restraints. "If you're really my father..."

"Sure, sure." The wolf chuckled. "I'm taking you with me. It will be much more fun. Doesn't make sense to eat you all at once. With your regeneration ability, you can last for years. We can play games. Do you play chess?"

"Fuck off," spat Red.

"Never mind, I'll teach you. When you lose, I'll bite off your hands."

"And when I win?"

"Then I won't bite off your hands. At least for a couple of days. It's amazingly motivating." He chuckled again.

The chuckling turned into violent coughing. He collapsed on the floor and rolled around, clutching his stomach. The rest of the band watched him in astonishment. "Robin? What the hell?" exclaimed John.

"It's her... she's alive!" He tore at his skin, howling with pain; then he grabbed a sword from the floor and plunged it into his belly.

"Maybe it's something you ate?" asked Red innocently.

Robin just howled and pushed the sword deeper. Blood spurted out of the wound, but there was something else emerging out of his belly - long, black, glistening coils, too thick and scaly to be intestines.

"He's killing himself! Somebody, do something!" exclaimed one of the bandits, cautiously stepping away from the thrashing body.

"No, that thing is killing him!" yelled another one, pointing at the huge python slowly wriggling its way out. "It's black magic!"

The snake raised its flat head and hissed. The argument was convincing; all the bandits dashed to the exit and disappeared, not even bothering to pick up their bags.

The python slithered to Red and bit the ropes off. "Thanks, Gran," said the girl, hugging the thick scaly neck. "How cool that you can shapeshift again!"

The snake hissed: "Thanks to you, kiddo. Who would've known that staying in a werewolf's stomach would be so rejuvenating! I haven't felt that good ever since I died!" She crawled back to the mangled corpse and coiled around it. "And it was enlightening to finally meet my son-in-law. Better late than never. Pity it was so brief." She flickered her forked tongue, dipping it into the ragged wound. "Want a bite? I'm afraid that the liver is already gone, but there's still enough of tasty tidbits."

"Yuck, I've told you I don't eat raw meat anymore," said Red. "No, he's all yours. Anyway, I'd rather go home - we have an aerobics contest at school tomorrow and I have to get up early."

"All right. I'll have a nap before starting to tidy up. What pigs. Please bring me a couple of carpets next time - the ones in my coffin are all bloodstained."

"I will, Gran."

Red threw one last glance at the mutilated corpse. One golden eye was still open, staring back at her with a blank unblinking look. She stuck her tongue at it. "Enjoy your rest, Dad."


End file.
